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A laugh bubbles up my throat. Man, that feels good.
Our phones buzz one after the other, and Ford glances at his. “Amelia wants to know if I’ve talked to you.”
Our half-sister is still firmly up our mother’s gluteus maximus, and I have no doubt that she’s not messaging out of concern but rather at the direction of our mother.
“I’m going to tell her yes and that you look well rested.” He smirks.
“Seriously?” I nibble on my sandwich as he types back, humming an affirmative.
He puts his phone down and pegs me with a thoughtful look. “My senior year, we had a fundraiser for a new athletic building. There were the usual grumblings. ‘Why couldn’t Baron’s dad pay for the thing and save us the trouble.’”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“This is the plan?—”
“I’m fundraising for your boarding school?”
“Just listen.”
I settle back and give him a go-ahead nod.
“The school was planning a benefit where they would announce how much money was raised. We talked the staff into announcing who raised the most and the least, saying that it would motivate us.”
“Did it?”
“Oh yeah. But we also had a side bet going. Whoever raised the least was gonna get pantsed in front of the headmaster and everyone at the benefit.”
“Was that your idea?”
He shrugs. “So, at the benefit, those Timid Timmys decided we’d get in trouble if we went through with the plan. Instead, we’d give the loser a three-second head start. Good ol’ Barry Edicott didn’t hear his name called, and let’s just say, things got a bit out of hand. It was a waste of a gorgeous Ralph Lauren suit, but they stripped him naked right there in the Grand Hall.”
I gasp, and Ford laughs at the memory, then leans forward, arms braced against the edge of the table.
“Here’s the point, Kate. The next day, we ribbed him hard. But Barry laughed with us. He leaned into the jokes. Told some of his own. He was such a good sport about it, no one teased him after that.”
“I was joking about whipping my bra off in public,” I say.
“Thank god.” He stuffs another chip into his mouth. “My point is, you need to own it. Own your story, sis.”
Own my story.
A tiny bubble fizzes through me.
“However you want to do that. Whatever story you want to write.”
“You make it sound so simple.” But I have my grandfather’s voice in my head, telling me to think of the family. The company. I spent years attending the right schools, getting good grades, and making sure I excelled in the correct activities. Shook the right hands and was seen with the right people.
Yet, after doing everything they asked me to do, it still wasn’t enough for my grandfather to see me as worthy and capable. No. I need a man by my side to gain my inheritance.
Ford puts his sandwich down and wipes his mouth. “It’s never simple, Kate. Nothing worth having is.”
I slouch back in my chair.
“And I’d suggest answering some text messages rather than hiding.”
I’ve never seen an eyebrow hold so much censure. But he radiates confidence. Makes it sound easy to ignore all the voices in my head and live my life the way I want. Everyone else be damned.
But he’s right. Just because he makes it look easy to do things on his terms doesn’t mean it is.
